


A meal for the guest

by The Sign of Tea (NoPlastic)



Category: Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: Blood, Cooking, Gen, Horror, Humor, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22514155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoPlastic/pseuds/The%20Sign%20of%20Tea
Summary: Missing scene: Dracula cooks for Jonathan Harker.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	A meal for the guest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redbuttonhole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbuttonhole/gifts).



So many cookbooks existed all over the world. Every country, every region had its own recipe collections, listing the ingredients, describing methods of preparation, and showing illustrations of the finished dishes. Dracula owned a vast collection of these books; and yet he didn’t need any of them to be able to make a good meal.  
He simply went to town and ate a cook.

Afterwards, with all the cook’s knowledge and experience flowing through his veins, he went to the market to buy some groceries, using the cook’s memories as a shopping list and the cook's body as a disguise.  
The market looked very different than the last time Dracula had seen it. So much could change within so few decades! Modern inventions and imported goods surprised him at every turn. The language and the manners seemed to have changed as well; not really for the better, he thought. At one point a peasant bumped into him and didn’t even apologize. People were so rude these days!  
However, the variety of goods was impressive. Dracula was able to purchase everything he needed, even salt, spices and a brand new meat fork.

When he came back to the castle, he disposed of the cook’s skin and carried the groceries into the kitchen. He prepared the oven, made a fire under the kettle and started cutting potatoes. It wasn’t as easy as he thought, and he had to admit he was a bit out of practice. The last time he’d done something like this, they didn’t even have potatoes in Romania.  
The cook’s memories provided him with all the information he needed, but his blood had a bad quality and didn’t rejuvenate Dracula as much as it should. He still felt old. His joints ached and his hands were shaky. It really hurt his pride that his guest Jonathan Harker would see him like this, but there was no time left to do anything about it now. Dracula cursed himself for that; after all those centuries he’d forgotten just how quickly the days could pass. He’d overslept. He could have started preparing for Harker’s arrival a week ago, but now he had to do all the work within a couple of hours. He had commanded the bats to wake him up on Monday evening, but they had overslept as well, as they often did in the cold season, and forgot about their master. Yes, it was really all their fault.

Impatiently he waited for the oven to heat up and for the water in the kettle to boil. He was going to make a proper roast with vegetables, and a nice hot soup so Harker could warm himself up after his journey through the snowy landscape. The warmer his blood, the easier it would flow.

When the soup was prepared and gently simmering in the kettle, Dracula took the half-done roast out of the oven to add a handful of herbs, and of course paprika. The food smelled so good that it made a vampire feel sick, which was exactly right.  
The cook in his veins insisted the roast needed garlic.  
“Shut up,” said Dracula, and the cook’s voice died.

What the old vampire really liked about cooking was the warmth of the fire. It reminded him of the heat of a human’s body whose blood he was about to drink. His mouth watered, but not for the roast.

With some indignation he picked another fly out of the soup. The little insects were everywhere and kept falling into the kettle. One of the things he remembered about humans, apart from their useful wisdom and curiosity, was that they didn’t enjoy eating flies. Dracula didn’t enjoy eating this one either, but only because it was contaminated with human food. Normally flies were a very good snack, and pleasant housemates as well. He couldn’t fathom why humans didn’t appreciate them.

The food was just ready when the driver’s horse neighed at the castle’s entrance, and there was a sound of footsteps.

Finally.

Quickly Dracula set the table, serving all the food in shiny silver dishes. To make sure Harker would feel welcome, he opened a bottle of wine for him that came from Dracula’s own cellar and looked wonderfully red. Then he hid upstairs in the shadows and waited until Harker was distracted for a moment before he revealed himself. The timing was perfect to startle Harker and distract him from any odd things he might have noticed.

While they talked, Dracula watched with some disappointment as his guest ate very little of the roast and none of the soup. He started to worry if Harker was ill, because humans often lost their appetite when they were unwell. What if something on the long trip from England had ruined his health and made his blood go bad? What a terrible thought! All the time and effort of inviting Harker to the castle would have been wasted if he was in bad shape.  
Dracula clung to the hope that there was just something wrong with the taste of the food, from a human point of view.  
Perhaps it would have needed garlic, after all.

Later, in the bedroom, Harker cut his finger on a broken mirror. Blood dripped from his hand – red as roses, red as wine. It whispered and sang in melodies only vampires could hear. It was full of strength, full of the emotions and desires of a young man, full of knowledge about a world far away. The highest quality. Dracula struggled not to attack Harker right away. The blood was perfect, just what he needed so badly.

“Oh Johnny,” he whispered to the empty hall after bidding Harker goodnight. “There’s no need to worry, is there? I see another meal in your near future that we’re both going to enjoy so much more.”


End file.
